The Rebellion Within The War
by Winter In Japan
Summary: Two clans; one of shinobi, one of samurai, fight for their ideals. Peace would be obtained at the cost of their prejudices. Izaya, Psyche, Hibiya and Roppi Vs. Shizuo, Tsugaru, Delic and Tsuki. Feudal Japan AU. M for violence and smut.
1. Introduction:The War

War.

The cold, silent and deadly whisper of the red-eyed clan leader was heard in the entire valley, as the red and black _Mon_ of his family raised in all the villages that respected his name. After months of tension and intrigue, the Orihara Clan managed to lure the Heiwajima Clan into the macabre dance of slaughter and blood. However, this task was not accomplished by force but by words; an endless stream of gossip and mind games, all of them prepared by the brilliant and sinister mind of the Clan Leader and his brothers.

The Orihara clan was composed entirely by shinobi, shadow warriors expert in the arts of combat, infiltration, manipulation and deceit. This war was created as a special opportunity to test themselves against a powerful and proud enemy, and to confirm the idea of his leader:

"_Honor only leads to destruction, only manipulation can bring stability to this country"_

With this idea into their minds, the Clan went to battle. The Leader and his brothers were sure of their victory; after all, each one of them was a master at one of their arts: The blade of Saike was as sharp as the wind of winter, the words of Hibiya as commanding as the sweet music of mind itself, Hachimenroppi could feign the innocence of a lost boy when he infiltrated into a place, and Izaya was incredibly agile in each sense a man could be.

They all marched to war, along with their people. Their _Mon, _two red eyes at the front of a red circle, flowed in the wind proudly. None of them knew that destiny was preparing strange circumstances for each one of them to find the enemy and rebel against the war they have arranged.

War.

The sad and strong words of the blonde clan leader traveled fast across the plains as each village and castle raised the blue and white _Mon _of the Heiwajima clan. After years of insults and honorless threats, only confrontation and struggle could cleanse all the wounds inflicted over the clan´s morale. The choice for war was a sad one, and the hearts of the clan leader and his brothers were sunken into the silent sorrow of mourning. All of them knew that, no matter the result, their beloved people would suffer the death of many.

The Heiwajima Clan was composed entirely by samurai; honorable warriors who mastered the arts of swordsmanship, archery, meditation and philosophy. This war was a necessary catastrophe, for they knew that the Orihara clan would love to stir war among the nation just to prove that manipulation could unite the realm.

"_Honor must prevail, for only peace and harmony can bring together this land"_

With their swords ready and their eyes focused, the entire clan marched to war. The Leader and his brothers sure of their quick victory, after all, each one of them had a special talent: Tsugaru moved both his sword and his words with a dream-like softness, Derikku was loved as a Prince among his people, Tsukishima could develop cold and efficient strategies without shedding blood and Shizuo could chase and subjugate anyone with the strength of a feral cat.

The crest of the Heiwajima clan, a white mountain standing in the middle of a blue circle, flowed in the cool wind of the plains while the clan marched and joined to battle. None of them knew that peace would come after the rebellion of their own hearts and the mending of their spirits.

**Thanks for reading the introduction for this fic. As you can see, it is settled in a feudal Japan AU. **

**I changed the names of Psyche [Here "Saike"] and Delic [Here "Derikku"] to make them sound less western and more Japanese. In addition, I put many references in the description of each character talent, so I hope you had fun reading them ^^**

**I would love to know your opinions; this is my first time writing a Durarara! fanfic, and I am a little bit nervous.**


	2. First Rebellion: Ambush and assassinate

**Warning: Strong mention of violence in this chapter.**

* * *

><p>The road was clean, even if the sound of footsteps and voices filled the air. The words that Saike could hear were not the subtle indications of a samurai army, not even the rumors of the ashigaru that he would expect to find in such circumstances. The men that looked at him preparing an ambush were not a part of the Heiwajima army.<p>

They were bandits, stinking, swearing in the name of some impure god, waiting for the "Nice piece of meat" disguised as a peasant that looked absently into the forest.

Saike chuckled lightly and fixed the straw hat over his head. Those filthy criminals did not know who he was, or what did he wanted: killing them was just a strange yet welcomed entertainment for him, after all, his final goal was to reach the camp beyond the forest, where one of the Heiwajima brothers was protecting the main forge of the clan.

"_The blue eyed samurai and his men protect Gizo-Suru, the Great Forge of the East; you must kill him and steal the secret of their steel, which is stronger than ours"_

Those were the orders of his older brother, Izaya, given to him in a coded parchment. Saike felt confident about his victory, his name meant "The Best", and he always thought it was some sort of omen about triumph; besides that, he knew some data of his enemy: Heiwajima Tsugaru was famous for his sense of honor, his soft battle style and his wisdom. Almost all the samurai respected him for his talents and even the monks received advice from him.

"_Do not fear, my brothers, I have killed a lot of philosophers and I assure you that, armed or not, a poet bleeds as easily as all the others" _

With these words, Saike parted from his home, dressed as a simple peasant, and went into the dark forest that separated the Orihara lands from the Gizo-Suru; there he was, smiling to himself while hearing the stupid words of the idle bandits.

He walked forward, following the road, mumbling a cheerful tune as he listened the men coming closer, at last, five huge bandits emerged from the forest, screaming at the top of their lungs and flailing swords and maces.

"_WE WILL KILL YA!"_

"_DIE IDIOT!"_

"_GIVE US EVERYTHING!"_

But Saike did not move, not even a single step, and the bandits stopped suddenly, surprised by the lack of reaction of a single, small man. He just took off his hat and looked at the leader, a gigantic idiot armed with a mace, with his pink, innocent eyes.

"_I did not understand your orders, dear sir; do you want my money? Or you just want to kill me?"_

The man looked at the shinobi with anger, his hate fumed in strange breaths that passes through his wide, disgusting nostrils.

"_Shut up, kid, we will take everything from you!"_

Saike showed his pockets, all of them empty. He giggled a bit in a childlike manner just to look at all the criminals with the loveliest gesture he could make.

"_See, I don´t have anything valuable with me, so let me pass, sir"_

And with that said, he began to walk again, passing between two of the dumbfounded giants. He listened to their movements, closing his eyes for a second. He heard the growls coming from a mouth and the air rippling by a weapon.

He smiled; the bandits have fallen into his trap.

With a swift jump, he evaded the blunt strike of the leader´s mace. He unsheathed his concealed _wakizashi _and turned around in the middle of air; he cut through it and cleaved the weapon in the chest of one of the men, leaving him bleeding and screaming in the middle of the road.

The shinobi faced the other four bandits with a grim and wide smile on his face. The leader growled with angry and scream the order to attack him; Saike giggled again and prepared himself for another round of death. The first bandit swinged his axe towards him, just to chop a tree; the black haired man lowered his entire body and slashed several times through the belly of his attacker, making both blood and guts to spill.

He was covered in the blood of his attackers; he prepared another blow for the leader, who laughed and scream one again. Saike didn´t care about his words, he just pierced through the pace between he and the leader, just to feel a punch in one his flanks that make him lose balance.

Then, he saw three, five, almost ten bandits roaming all the way through the road. Surrounding him, laughing and whistling obscenities. One of them punched him, but he evaded it, just to feel another strike coming, and a kick, and the sound of a sharp edge towards him; a entire mess of blades and blunt objects directed to him. He evaded most, cutting through flesh and fat, moving swiftly through the space between the mass of men, his clothes drenched in blood and sweat as he jumped and dodged, as he sliced and cleaved into them; but they came, more and more, like an endless sea of violence that finally engulfed him into close combat.

When he realized the truth, countless hands grabbed his wrists and his ankles, leaving him defenseless. He spit on their faces and smiled to them.

"_Filthy, wretched kid!"_

Said the leader

"_We thought that an idiot peasant was trying to pass into our lands, mocking us…but here we are, with a strange little boy who knows how to kill and fight without mercy, smiling like a gifted child"_

Saike cursed inwardly, it seemed like the bandit king knew something. He tried to resist, but the hands that hold him grabbed him strongly, tearing his clothes and making marks in his white skin.

"_Then I saw your eyes; you surely deserve your name and your fame…"_

The giant came closer to him, licking his cheek in a lewd way.

"…_.Orihara Saike-san, it seems that your pride has make you fall"_

The shinobi growled and tried to bite the tongue of the gross man, but he failed. He felt the low laughs of the other bandits as the spoke.

"_Ara…Then you know who I am, kind sir, would you like to let me go, please? My brothers would really get angry if they knew that I am at hands of some pitiful bandit gang, also, I could..."_

The cold feeling of hands stripping his clothes interrupted his words; his skin felt the wind of the forest, and his eyes frozen at the words of the men that hold him.

"_He´s white like a girl…"_

"_...and he talks like one..."_

"_They say that ninja put venom in their skin so their lovers die…"_

"…_Hehe, I want to taste it, who knows if that is true…"_

The wet sensation of an unwelcomed tongue in his waist made him growl out of disgust and fear. He tried to remove himself from the grasp, but the strength of many hands did not let him go. His gestured changed from anger to shame as his voice resounded over the place.

"_What do you want from my, bunch of imbeciles? If you want my blood, kill me already and stop this mockery!"_

The bandits looked at him with a mix of fear and curiosity on their eyes, but only the leader spoke to him directly and boldly.

"_I do not want to kill you, Saike-san, since the Heiwajima samurai came here, we are decreasing in numbers, and our opportunities to have fun are less and less, so, I don´t want to kill you, that is not funny…"_

The dark, low laugh of the leader make Saike´s skin chill.

"_I just want to break you…"_

* * *

><p><strong>Thanks for the reviews in my work; I am truly thankful for your interest in my writings. <strong>

**Violence and mature themes will appear in this fic, after all, it is about a war, and war is never pretty. I hope you´ve liked it.**


	3. First Rebellion: The Broken Spirit

**Warning: violence, coarse language and implied mature themes.**

* * *

><p>He threw up in the stone floor.<p>

He lay there, naked, feeling the cold and sticky rock beneath him; his back hurt, his arms hurt, his entire body, ever limb, part and organ was immersed in pain.

And his mind was a disarray of feelings, his soul a bleeding, broken whisper.

He was Orihara Saike, the strongest of his brethren, the owner of the greatest speed among shinobi, the possessor of a sharp mind and an uncanny ability. His skills made him proud, his pride made him arrogant, his arrogance made him fail, and his failure…

His failure made him go into a living hell.

The last time he could see the light of the day, three days had passed since the bandits had captured him. Now, in his stone cell, he could not see the light, or feel any warmth; thinking about warmth made him remember the touches, the rough skin of those filthy beasts that touched him, that licked him, that broke into him….

Saike threw up again in the floor, feeling the metallic and sour taste of disgust and violation in his lips. He cried silently, for he knew that, if his captors listened to his sobs, they would make him go out again and…

He preferred not to think about it.

He kept crying, out of fear, out of disgust, out of hate, remembering those words.

"_Delicious little kid; Saike, "The Best"….yeah! You are the best fuck I've had in years!"_

"_There is no poison on your skin, but there is enough moist to keep your ass wet!"_

"…_And you know what the finest is? That the guy who told us that you were virgin also told your brothers that you were captured by the blue eyed bastard!"_

"_Hehe…you´re even crying! So you fight like a man but are weak like a child, maybe that´s why you´re not the leader of your stupid clan!"_

"_No one would look after you, puppy…you will stay here with us forever"_

The realization of his betrayal at the hand of someone whom he did not knew, knowing that his brothers would possibly assault Gizo-Suru without finding him, all of that knowledge torn his soul with quick amounts of torment. The ideal of unity by manipulation was completely broken in the company of his own will to live.

"_Gods…spirits…anyone…kill me…kill me…for I've been betrayed by someone I didn't know, manipulation and deceit, the arts that made me the best among my people, have brought me darkness and pain, and I deserved them but…please...bring me death, bring me death, for I know that my smile cannot shine again, I know that my spirit would not be repaired…"_

He thought of his people, of the many times that they had played with the lives of others, insulting them, mocking them, hiding and seeking their most precious memories and things. He remembered the laughs, the deaths, and the suicides that were planned by them just for fun. He could not count all the times in which he betrayed a lord just to mess with the plans of another, all the times he smiled to a beautiful woman after killing his husband, all the strange and bouncy joy that was mixed with the bitter truth of murder and treachery.

"_We did not taste treachery on our skin…we always escaped unharmed on any of our adventures, until now…" _He felt_ "Now I am here, dirty and torn apart, paying the price of my boldness and my stupidity…now I feel that there´s nothing of that faint light of joy for me"_

He sighed and stopped breathing for a moment, expecting the compassionate embrace of death to take away his agony. He hoped that someone would remember him as the innocent being who laughed at the jokes of commoners and singed below the trees, not as the merciless shadow of fatality coming from the sky to finish with his blade the cold intrigues of his clan.

But at the same time as Saike drowned into the endless sea of his own suffering, the bandits shouted and fought, preparing a fetid counter attack against some sort of strange force that attacked them; a patrol of rapid men assaulted the cave that granted them refuge, killing almost all of them with clean slashes. Masks dampened the voices of the assaulters, and Saike could not hear any of the noise created by the cruel battle that raged outside his blocked cell. One of the criminals was clever enough to realize that the men who attacked them were going to win; the idle beast ran towards the cell of the beaten prisoner, and took him.

Saike felt the brilliant light of the sun in his eyes, blinding him; two rude hands took him by the waist and carried him over the shoulders of a filthy thug; for the smell, he realized that the bandit that carried him was drunk, just as his comrades. His pink eyes were useless; they were used to the complete darkness of the cell, and now they were sightless by the light of morning itself.

He could smell the crisp scent of dew beyond the stench of metal, blood and alcohol. Moreover, he could hear the deadly whisper of swords coming closer to him; and he just ducked in time when an arrow passed almost all the way through his head. The one carrying him received an arrow in his back, dropping Saike, his head fell against the hard floor, he tried to stand, and managed to get the corpse off from over him.

The raven-haired man walked slowly, feeling his legs weak; each step was a battle with pain and limitation. He finally found a warmer section of the cave wall. He just saw white instead of black, and heard a loud shriek of pain behind him. Another loud thud resonated at the back the shinobi, and some sort of handgrip dashed against his head.

And the world turned black for him.

The soothing touch of a warm cloth over his forehead woke Saike up.

He could feel the texture of _tatami _boards beneath him; he was wearing some sort of woolen _kinagashi_. He opened his eyes widely, just to see a black blur into white space; he had bandages all over his eyes.

"_Who…when...why?" _

He asked when he felt the strong hand of a man touching his forehead lightly.

"_Just a stranger, when they got you out of the cave, because you are certainly not a outlaw"_

The voice that spoke was soft and alluring, yet it was deep as some sort of far breeze. Saike tried to move, only to feel pain in all its manifestation across his flesh and bones. The hands that helped him before pushed him softly into the _futon, _making his pain disappear little by little. He could smell food into the quiet room, and he couldn´t stop his stomach from growling soundly.

The murmur of movement indicated him that, whoever was there, he was organizing some sort of dishes. He felt the scent of soup near, and he sat gradually with the help of the stranger. The hot pot was put at one side of the bed, and he felt two chopsticks that hold meat in front of his lips. He opened his mouth, completely embarrassed of his actions. He ate, and his helper gave him more, until he finished.

"_Are you better now?" _

The stranger asked.

Saike shook his head. His body felt fine aside from the pain, but his mind was still as messed up as before. He reached for the hand of the other man, taking it as a sign of his presence.

"_I would like to die right now, I ate just…I don´t know…a part of me wants to pass away and escape from the pain, but another part of me wants to understand why did the gods or the destiny or whatever that is called let me live.."_

"_I believe that you will survive " _said the other_ "I also think that you are alive because of a higher purpose"_

The stranger stood up and left, leaving Saike alone in his futon.

The shinobi just sighed, and whispered with a broken voice.

"_Please, don´t leave me alone"_

The steps of the man returned, and he came closer to the blind man, touching his hand.

"_I won´t"_

For the next four days, the life of Saike revolved around the stranger and his ways of showing compassion; the other man feed him, changed his bandages, gave him medicine, and didn´t make one question, His voice only sounded when the shinobi made a question, usually about the weather or the ingredients of his food. The answers were serene and focused. No matter how did Saike acted, the other would always be there, helping him eat, or stand or walk a bit. The ninja felt better, just hearing the other´s breathing and smelling his skin made him believe that there was something stronger than deceit in the world.

Those four days, when Saike was cold, there was always a kind hand that reached for a blanket. He knew that the stranger slept by his side, he sometimes heard the low sound of a brush with ink against parchment, and the wind made a _shamisen_ weep tenderly into the night. All those sounds, along with the strong hands and the soothing voice of the stranger made him suspect something horrible; in the afternoon of the second day, he just sat up without help, and cried a bit because of the dark premonition that haunted his mind.

"_Is there something wrong?"_

The stranger asked.

"_Please, kind sir, would you help me to take off the bandages from my eyes? I think that they are fine now"_

The voice of the stranger trembled for a moment, as if he was looking for an appropriate answer. Saike heard a low sigh and he felt the hands of the other undoing his bandages. He felt a relentless melancholy in his heart, and he prayed for a moment for his idea to be just a little lie; he wanted to see a peasant or a lumberjack with brown eyes and a wrinkled face,

He inhaled deeply and opened his tearful eyes.

The hope of being blind forever disappeared when he say the shape of a face, and a pair of eyes.

The blue, serene eyes of Heiwajima Tsugaru looked at him; his entire body radiated serenity, even if his face looked sad.

Saike stared at him, the tears in his face flowing freely. He reached for the face of his target and touched him gently. There he was, crying because his inner conflict; his enemy had saved him, he had taken care of him, even feed him. The shinobi watched as the samurai took one of his daggers and gave it to him.

"_There is no point in waiting, Saike-san…"_

Whispered the blonde.

"…_finish with your assignment, kill me now and save your honor"_

Saike looked at the blade with hate; he threw it and held the other man close to him, making his tears fall in the white fabric of his _kimono_. He knew he couldn´t kill the man that saved his life. He could not betray the enemy that showed compassion to him, he could not kill the man that had compassion on him and helped him in his darkest hour.

He felt the arms of Tsugaru closing around him in silence as the samurai returned the embrace. Saike only heard a soft whisper coming from the lips of his foe.

"_I won´t leave you alone…"_

* * *

><p><strong>I sincerely don´t know what to think about this chapter. The fist part made me feel a horrible person for doing this to poor Saike, but the second hand made me remember why did i wrote such things.<strong>

**Thank you for your support! I hope you liked this chapter!**


	4. First Rebellion: The Everpresent Omen

**Warning: mention of violence.**

* * *

><p>He dreamt of the sunset, as every morning of each day of his life.<p>

He saw the sun hiding into the sea as the day was getting colder and the stars appeared in the dark sky. He could smell the breeze of the sea; he could hear the people humming near the beach. He could see the plains, the strait, and the ocean. He felt a warm embrace in his entire body, as a shadow appeared before him.

A gentle person, who cried bitter tears of blood from eyes as soft as twilight, which was wounded beyond repair, and muttered some strange words about death and honor, embraced him without any shame.

Tsugaru heard his name called from beyond his dreams and he woke up quickly.

"_My Lord! Please wake up! The explorers are fighting with the bandits of the Bakemono clan!"_

The samurai just shook his head. He stood hurriedly and nodded.

"_Tell the ashigaru and the samurai that are not guarding the gates to wake up; I want them all ready as soon as possible to crush the bandits at once"_

"_Yes Tsugaru-sama!"_

The blonde warrior dressed himself, putting each piece of his clothes and his polished armor in place; the _tabi_, his _zori_, the _hakama_, the _hitatare_, the metallic pieces, and at last, the mask with fake fangs and the helmet with his own sign engraved in the front; a medallion representing a snowflake. He took his _katana_ and his _wakizashi _and went out his house. The bells of Gizo-Suru rang, piercing the air of sunrise with their clear voices; the entire fortified village that lied between a lake and an iron quarry woke up, and soon the _ashigaru_ and his personal guard stood in front of the gates.

He took his bow and his arrows, and mounted his horse as soon as he went outside his house. When he arrived to the gates, he looked at his man, each one of them focused and prepared for battle. They asked him wordlessly about his commands.

Tsugaru looked to his assistant, who gave him a map showing the location of the caves that served as a refuge for the bandits.

"_Men, we will go into the forest now and we will finish the threat of the Bakemono bandit clan. We will kill the bandits without mercy, just as they killed our own people!"_

He raised his sword as his men shouted. Then, he charged along his personal guard into the forest, the_ ashigaru _followed closer.

The samurai felt the closeness of battle and emptied his mind.

Except that, this time, he could not forget his ever-present dream.

When the men arrived to the cave, the explorers were fighting against a brutal yet drunk force of grubby outlaws. The giant idiots could stop the offensive of the explorers, but when the guard of the Heiwajima army came, they were at a serious disadvantage.

Tsugaru prepared an arrow in his bow and fired; one bandit fell, he fired once again, killing another outlaw as the explorers left the cave, most of them wounded. The sloppy and dull battle style of the Bakemono men could not make anything against the prepared and sober samurai of the Heiwajima army; the warriors prepared their arrows and fired before any of the _ashigaru _unitscame in sight; the personal guards of the blue-eyed lord shoot again, silently and deadly.

All of a sudden, the silver rain of arrows became a brilliant spectacle of blades falling as leaves from the sky; all the samurai ran towards the cave, their swords exposed, cutting and killing with the mercy of death itself, yet soft and soundless like the murmurs of dreams. There was harmony for a moment, when Tsugaru saw the blood flowers of violence flourish and die in front of his eyes. He did not felt any pleasure from the killing, but he knew that, behind any poetic or martial meaning, death was the only god that could bring peace to the land of the Great Forge.

The rider dismounted and ran silently into the cave behind his men; he cut through the bandits who still lived as wind itself, hushed and accurate. His movements were fast, and he left behind his men quickly as is blade slashed vital points and made deep incisions in the bodies of the drunken men who stood between him and the bandit leader.

The repugnant smell of the fat, disgusting man, made him lose his battle focus. His mind was abruptly filled with the repulsion that man provoked in him. The bandit king stroked the ground with his bloodstained mace and laughed at the sight of the brilliant _katana_ of the blonde samurai.

"_Heee-ree you are-e bastard! You and your…schtupid clan… ¡COME AND FIGHT WITH MEH BLUE EYED WHORE!"_

Tsugaru smiled meekly beneath his mask and remembered the old proverb, "You will not be punished for your anger; you will be punished by your anger". He sighed and made a short bow before his foe.

"_With pleasure, Bakemono-san"_

He gave a dash forward, swinging his sword to hack the bandit´s arm; but the drunken man was fast, and he evaded the brilliant blade. Tsugaru moved his sword up, and left a gap in his defense; he felt the blunt edge of the mace hit his sword and his helmet, making his mask fall and his eyes lose focus. The bandit king laughed stridently and raised his mace once again; but he flinched when he saw the blue eyes of the samurai burning in the furnace of resolve.

When he felt his mask fell, Tsugaru could sense the famous anger burst of his brethren running into his mind; but he controlled it and used it as a fire to ignite his soul and recover his pace. He looked into the eyes of the simpleton, who draw back slowly, almost scared, just to laugh again and charge against the samurai. The blonde warrior bended his knees in a outlandish reverence, seeing the mace going up in the air; his sword traced an arch upwards, cutting through the abdomen of the criminal, exposing his flesh for all to see.

"_You live as a dog…" _Whispered the blue-eyed man.

Using the force of his own movements, Tsugaru turned around swiftly, so his sword hit the back of the head of the brutal king in a single blow. Once single and clean movement separated the head from the body, as the brilliant trace of the sword went upward, creating a short-lived silver line. The head fell at the feet of the samurai, and the blood stained his armor.

"…_and you die like one"_

The few men who saw the decapitation of their leader ran out of fear, just to find death at the hands of the samurai or the _ashigaru_. The brave Heiwajima soldiers finished with the threat, and took the bodies of the fallen to bury them in the holy grounds of the cemetery at Gizo-suru. Tsugaru cleaned his katana with a piece of cloth that he had in one of the spaces of his armor. He looked at his men and saw the faces of the wounded of the dead. He could smell the blood of his comrades as well as the blood of his foes.

"_Take each bandit corpse and bury it near here, or else the carrion eaters will bring the attention of the enemy to this place"_

The men who stood near him obeyed with a nod and told the other samurai and the _ashigaru_ to do so. He recovered his mask and walked into the exit, but then, one of the light-feet soldiers called his name.

"_Tsugaru-sama! Please come here! There´s one man who is not a bandit!"_

He blinked in surprise. He had no idea about someone being prisoner of the Bakemono clan. He walked besides the man who called for him, and look at the body he had in his arms.

It was a man, almost a boy, naked and bruised. His white skin was covered in an endless sea of wounds and burning marks: His mouth was dry, his eyes were half closed, his thighs and his hips were brutally vandalized by the marks of slaps and bites; there was something in his most intimate parts that was covered in dry blood. This man was certainly not a bandit, but some sort of slave, yet his muscles and the scars in his arms spoke of some sort of battle prowess.

He saw that the man had raven-colored hair, a fragile body and marks of recent battle; his half-lidded eyes were pink, there was just one person in the whole country that could look n such a strange way. Someone whom Tsugaru had met before in his own house. A man who loved to manipulate and deceive honorable men: Orihara Saike, whose blade could not save him from the bandits, as it seemed.

The truthful _ashigaru_ looked at his master and told him.

"_He is still alive, weak and wounded…do we kill him, my Lord?"_

For the first time in all his years as a warrior, he doubted. He could kill his enemy, finish with one of the threats that the shinobi clan put in his path. But, at the same time, he could not forgive himself if he ordered the execution of an agonizing, raped man.

"_No" _He said,_ "don´t kill him here. Take him and carry him near me, maybe he has some important information about all of this matter" _

The light-feet nodded and took the naked man in his shoulders and covered him with one of the mattress used for the wounded. Tsugaru mounted his horse and reunited his men to return into Gizo-Suru, even if he was behind all of them, at the side of the man who took care of his foe.

His thought drifted from time to time to the wounded man that survived the attack. When he arrived home, he told his companion to let the agonizing man in his house. There, he changed his clothes and looked at the destroyed body of the shinobi carefully.

His body was tattered, his pale cheeks were marked by two trails of tears and blood, and his pink eyes looked watery and dark, making the pink color look like a strange mix of purple, pink and yellow.

Also he was whispering for death to come, lost in some sort of life-revolving hallucination.

"_A gentle person, who cries bitter tears of blood from eyes as soft as twilight, which is wounded beyond repair, and mutters some strange words about death…."_

Tsugaru said lowly, just as his eternal dream.

He was the person of his dream; a great question revealed before him; the ever-present omen printed in his mind was one of his enemies. He could kill him or he could save him. A great confusion, even greater than the one he experimented back in the entrance of the cave, consumed him as he looked to the sky beyond the window.

The samurai sighed deeply and focused on his principles and the turmoil in his heart disappeared. He thought about honor, wisdom and compassion, and he realized that his enemy had not only his body shattered, but also his soul frayed.

He touched the injured forehead of his enemy, he kissed his knuckles.

And decided to heal him completely.

* * *

><p><strong>For some strange reason, i feel proud of myself after writing this chapter, even if i feel that is really bad.<strong>

**Thanks for your support! I hope you liked the epicness of Samurai!Tsugaru as much as i enjoyed writing it!**


	5. First Rebellion: A Honorable Path

**This is, by far, the hardest i´ve written for this story. There´s no smut or violence.  
>I hope you like it. <strong>

* * *

><p>The fever was high, making the shinobi tremble in his dark dreams. His black hair was slicked by sweat to his forehead, one of the few portions of his skin that did not have a wound or a bruise. His lips trembled and his half-closed eyes shifted its gaze quickly, product of some sort of hallucination. He cried in his sleep and he mumbled many strange words; the only thing that seemed to calm him was the water in his mouth and the warm feeling of the breath by his side. Two days had passed since the owner of that breath captured Orihara Saike, whom he saved from the hands of a bandit clan, in an out of the ordinary mode.<p>

The raven-haired man lied in a futon, warm and cozy, in the middle of the room of his target; the samurai knew that, if Orihara Saike was near his outpost at Ginzo-Suru it was for killing him, not just to drink tea with him. However, he was the person he always dreamt of; someone crying tears of blood, embracing him, making his heart go faster.

"_It is senseless…"_

He whispered each day, each hour, each time he changed the wet pads in his enemy´s forehead; he felt that he was helping the enemy who wanted to see his corpse in a stake. He remembered the sneer in the face of the Orihara Leader, his constant taunts, and his ever-present need to see the anger of his older brother. He felt anger; frustration and hatred arise in his usually composed spirit, maybe if all the men to belong to that miserable clan deserved to die, or to suffer. The sound of the _tatami _creaking under his fist made him remember where he was.

He inhaled deeply and kept in mind that he was in his house at the Great Forge of the East, serving food for a wounded killer who most likely was going to murder him. He put his hand on the white forehead, just to retire the hair. Then he heard the whispering voice of the feverish man.

"_Who…when...why?"_

He awoke in silence and touched the bandages in his eyes. He did not move in an aggressive style, his actions were slow and clumsy, and it seemed that he was each movement immersed him in great pain. Tsugaru pushed him softly back to the futon, until the stomach of Saike growled loudly: the shinobi blushed darkly, making Tsugaru smile a bit.

"_Just a stranger, when they got you out of the cave, because you are certainly not an outlaw"_

Yes, those were the most neutral words he could say at that kind of moment. Yet they did not embody the whole truth; he was not a stranger, he took him when he had killed the bandit leader and he let him live because he was someone that appeared each day in his dreams. In fact, there was much left to say, but he kept quiet as he prepared the dishes for the dinner.

Even eating, the movements of the Orihara shinobi were sloppy and harmless. Tsugaru gave him dinner in silence, hearing only his sips and his movements. He was tense, expecting a killing blow at any moment, some sort of strike, a disarming movement, a treacherous sneer, but there was nothing but the mumbling of a man eating peacefully.

"_Are you better now?_

Tsugaru asked, just to break that overwhelming sense of peace. Saike shook his head strongly, and his voice broke amidst his words.

"_I would like to die right now, I ate just…I don´t know…a part of me wants to pass away and escape from the pain, but another part of me wants to understand why did the gods or the destiny or whatever that is called let me live.."_

Tsugaru felt a warm hand reaching for him, and felt his own tears flowing: he simply couldn´t confirm the ideas of his enemy, he couldn´t say that he was a part of some sort of omen, of warmth, of dream.

"_I believe that you will survive,"_he said meekly_"I also think that you are alive because of a higher purpose"_

He lied, of course. He knew the purpose, even if it was not a normal one. Feeling the terrible dishonor of deceit, Tsugaru stood and walked away from that room, only to be stopped by the sound of a weak, trembling voice.

"_Please, don´t leave me alone"_

H e looked at his enemy, and saw a red-like stains forming in the bandages. His hands were trembling and his voice was weak. Tsugaru felt a strange sensation in his mind, there was something, like a soundless prayer that crept into him, making him return to Saike. He touched that white hand, remembering to keep his voice calm, even if confusion and hope made him cry.

"_I won´t"_

During the next two days, Tsugaru told his men to stay at the gates, continuing with their work protecting the forge. He wrote a letter to his older brother, telling him that Orihara Saike was there, in his house, wounded, blind and quiet. His suggestions were clear; he wanted that Heiwajima Kasuka, the apprentice and adopted brother of Heiwajima Shizuo, came with his heavy armored troops and helped him to defend the Forge from the Orihara army.

After writing the letter and giving his command to his men, he made everything he could to restore the wellbeing of his prisoner. He gave him food and medicine. Sometimes he thought of Saike as a prisoner of war, a well-informed assassin and an important prey. Other times he saw him as an unfortunate soul, whimpering in the middle of the night, a lost child who only spoke when he wanted to know about his food or the weather.

There was no malice in his voice, no martial prowess in his moves; there were no disturbances in his sleep or in his words. There was nothing in Orihara Saike, except for hunger, silence and cold. And it made anguish consume the heart of Tsugaru, who acted like he slept by his side, when he just watched and looked, when he just waited for the moment of his murder. He waited for death, but only peace came; those broken sighs, those tender words made him think that this was no shinobi, that there was no dream or omen.

He kept dreaming of him; almost as if the spirits wanted to torture him more, the dream could not stop. He saw the same scene over and over again in those hellish nights: each time, it was clearer that the person who embraced him in the sunset was Saike. His eyes shining under the dying sun, his touch light over his skin, his scent flowing through the wind; everything was more real each time. There was a moment, just a second in one of his naps, when he could feel the scent of the cherry trees, when he forgot the war, his family and his honor, a moment when Tsugaru forgot everything and kissed Saike, his dream, in his soft lips.

He woke up, pale and sick of himself.

And just as he knew something about his dream, the shinobi sat and looked at him, his tears staining again the clean fabric of his bandages.

"_Is there something wrong?"_

Said the samurai, wondering if the same spirits that preyed upon him also tormented his prisoner.

"_Please, kind sir, would you help me to take off the bandages from my eyes? __I think that they are fine now"_

Tsugaru felt his spirit fell, as his voice trembled in doubt, making an intelligible sound. Even so, he found the strength to reach out for the bandages and retire them carefully. Behind them were the closed eyes of his enemy; he expected a sneer and a cunning movement, but there was nothing again, just tears flowing from a pink eyes.

There was nothing but his dream coming into reality.

The cold, lithe hand of Saike reached for his cheek, and he just stood up, finding that his anguish was turning into a thirst for his own death. He believed that his omen and his dreams were a mockery from heavens, a prank from the spirits, a dagger put in his soul to fray him until the end of his days.

He knew that there was no way that those pink eyes looked at him with love, no way that those tears were for him. He took his dagger from his belt and gave it to the shinobi.

"_There is no point in waiting, Saike-san…"_

He lowered his voice into a whisper.

"…_finish with your assignment, kill me now and save your honor"_

He offered his throat to his enemy, and expected for the quick strike that would end his suffering.

But he only heard the sound of a blade being thrown into the ground, and the warm feeling of arms surrounding him. He couldn´t feel any pain, or hate. Just an infinite sadness that crawled in his heart, along with the sorrowful realization of his dream coming truth, of his love coming truth.

He repeated the promise, he hold the fragile body of Psyche and calmed his thoughts, replacing them with the soft scent of his former enemy.

"_I won´t leave you alone…"_

The tears of Saike stained his white robes as he held him in a soft embrace; the shinobi trembled into his arms, silently.

"_Why you didn´t kill me?"_

He asked, letting his voice tremble.

"_I can ask the same, Heiwajima Tsugaru-san, why haven´t you kill me?"_

He looked the face of his enemy, and saw his fear, his agony, and his entire soul being shaken and beaten by his thoughts. He saw his enemy and he saw himself in his eyes; his tears, his gestures, they were screaming, even if they were crying silently. They held each other, they looked each other, and they forgot everything around them.

"_One of my clansman betrayed me, my Lord, he sold me and my virtue to the bandits, and they did what they pleased with me. They raped, they punched, and they mocked me so many times that I cannot remember…they held me in darkness and broke my body as well as my soul…I wanted to die, knowing that the foundations of my people had lead me to that…"_

The face of Saike pressed against the chest of the samurai, who lowered his gaze into the black hair.

"…_and then you, my enemy, the person I believed to be weak and stupid. The poet that would bleed like any other man saved me. You, whom I would love to kill, whom I thought would murder me and place my head among the most hypocrite of his trophies. You saved me; you feed me and cured my outer wounds…you, Heiwajima Tsugaru-san, showed in some days of silence that there is something stronger than lies and deceit…"_

Those pink orbs looked at him, darkened because of an endless stream of tears.

"…_something that I don´t know, something I didn´t care about…is this called compassion? The feeling of rebelling against everything you are just to reach out for someone you don´t know well. The sensation of your own, wretched will chasing something that, for the first time in your life, is not suffering or fun, but unknown warmth…"_

A strange silence consumed the words of Saike, just as his tears flowed into the wind, making everything feel eerie in the pleasant light of evening.

"…_I don´t want to kill the person who showed me that sensation, I don´t want to murder the only chance I've got to know something beyond intrigue and lies. I-I want to be with that person, my Lord…I want to stay by the side of the one who looked after me in the darkest hour of my life. I know that I can be a taint in his life, a disgusting shadow in his illuminated wake, but I want to know…I want more of this feeling, more of this insecurity, because I know that it will lead me to something better than my past…"_

The body of Saike fell a bit; his thoughts had pushed him too much and his words had made him collapse into the strong arms of the samurai. Tsugaru Hold him closely, feeling the strong beat of his heart going faster against the faint but quick heartbeat of Saike. He kissed his head softly, feeling those black locks near his lips.

"_I did not kill you, Orihara Saike-san, because you were the omen of a dream. A vision that has haunted me my whole life; the image of being embraced into the light of twilight, the sensation of true peace and serenity lies in your eyes. That´s what I've been dreaming of since the heavens made me born here… it is senseless and silly, but I know, deep in my soul, that that impression of tranquility into your arms and love in your gaze will be the difference between my descend or my salvation"_

Their eyes locked into each other, crying, trembling. Both of the warriors were confused, both of them felt the delicate and battle worn fingers of the other touching their skin; there was silence, as the lights of the village faded and there was nothing but the silver glow of the moon far up the sky. Both forgot that they were enemies, people for whom war raged outside the Forge.

"_I want to live in the island of peace…"_

Whispered Saike. As he decided to give up his weapons and throw himself into the merciless hands of hope. He closed his eyes and moved closer to Tsugaru until he felt his soft, opened lips into his.

The assassin and the philosopher kissed, tasting the sweet feeling of their hate dying, rebelling against the conflict, against their differences, against their own will to give up and kill each other. Their tears perished in each other´s lips, giving it a salty feeling of sadness and uncertainty; they didn´t know what was going to happen, but, for a moment, they were not afraid of it.

When they parted the kiss in an almost painful way, they spoke again.

"_Saike-san, if you wish for this to go on, the war must end, you´ve understood that your actions were misguided. Now your entire clan must recognize it too"_

The shinobi looked down, feeling doubt in his heart.

"_I don´t think that there can be a peaceful way to teach them. Only suffering would show them the corrupt nature of their actions…i...i must tell you that they believe that I am here. I have no doubt that my older brother will come after me…"_

The samurai listened to those words, fearless, he sighed heavily and looked beyond the window.

"_Then we shall go and find him. This situation must be ended now before any innocents die"_

Saike shook his head.

"_No, Tsugaru-san, he doesn´t think like that…he will come, kill and take what he needs. He will murder your people and turn you into his toy. I have to go and see him, talk to him and make him reconsider things…"_

A questioning look passed through the face of the samurai.

"_Why would you do that for me? It is pointless and dangerous to go and tell your brother that you are a rebel…""_

The pink-eyed shinobi sighed and looked at Tsugaru with a smile filled with sadness.

"_There is a very special reason; the same you had to save me, the same you had to listen to me"_ he whispered, tired.

"_It´s the most honorable path"_

* * *

><p><strong>You, my dearest reader, it is because of you that i made this long chapter.<strong>

**I hoped you´ve liked it. I hope that it´s quiality is as high as your expectations. Thanks for reading.**


	6. First Rebellion: The Roaring Mountain

**Sorry for the lack of updates. I am really sorry -bows-**

**WARNING: Strong mention of violence in this chapter.**

* * *

><p>There was no road. There was no sound besides of the melody of the breeze above the plains; Saike could feel the warmth of the earth under his straw sandals, he heard the noises of the village far away from him. He had departed from Gizo-Suru wearing the attires of an errand monk; he had never worn some clothes like that, and he felt a strange feeling of calm thinking about the meaning of each one of the colors, of the fabric, that covered his body and made him look older.<p>

He smiled lightly; he had never some clothes like this, he never had that feeling of silent resolution in his heart; he looked above the meadow into the south, where his home was. Across the forest and the valleys, there was some point between the Orihara lands and the Great Forge of the East, where his older brother, Orihara Izaya, expected to launch an attack to the little village of blacksmiths to rescue him.

At least, that was what Saike thought. He knew that it was a foolish mission to go back at his brother with nothing in his hands but awful memories and terrible news. However, it was better than nothing, better than an attack to the Forge based in a lie told by a stranger; he walked more, always going forward to the south, expecting to see tents of black and red shining under the merciless sun. Saike smiled, after all, tents and visible things were not the style of his brother, He knew that the road was long and the message, strange.

He sighed deeply, praying silently for the first time in his life. He remembered the night, and the smell of incense that covered the skin of the one he loved; the sweet and musky flavor was still in his mouth, and the warmth between his flesh and his bones was still there, lingering and making him smile.

He remembered Tsugaru, and everything was easier.

Blood red eyes stared down to pink orbs. The owner of those eyes drenched in fury; his hands held a dagger closely, making his knuckles pale. Orihara Izaya was angry; he thought for a moment that the words he just listened from the lips of one of his brothers were some sort of mockery, so he repeated them.

"_So, little Saike-chan, not only did you fail in your mission, you also got raped by bandits and got rescued by the imbecile who serves as your enemy…in the hands of that pitiful idiot you found comfort and peace and now you want me to stop this war, right?"_

His little brother nodded. He could see in his face the utter fear that crawled into his spirit.

"_You´re fast, yes, but weak as a dry leaf, and naïve as a little boy; if you were as smart as you claimed to be back at home, the blue eyes of Heiwajima Tsugaru would be here, in my hands…a pair of blood sapphires to decorate my sword" _

Izaya rose from his seat, looking at the other shinobi with hatred; Saike trembled and lowered his gaze, scared of the images that his brother brought to his mind. The red tent of the Clan Leader was getting colder as the sun hid in the horizon. The pink-eyed shinobi walked alone the entire day, leaving his loved one alone in the dim light of the dawn. He didn´t say goodbye, nor he said anything to his beloved Tsugaru. He just walked and traveled until he found his people amidst a caravan in the plains, feeling that, for the first time in his life, he was going to do something right.

"_No! Please brother! I beg you to reconsider things! There is no point in this whole war! Our purpose is as nimble and foolish as the words of a child…I was betrayed, Onii-sama! Someone told the bandits who I was and someone told you that I was captured instead of rescued. I´ve seen in those eyes, in those sapphires you want to see covered in blood, real peace and honor. There are better things in this world than treachery, like compassion and peace and…"_

Saike looked at his brother, whom played with his dagger in a nervous way, cutting the tatami floor with a sadistic low speed. The Leader spoke, looking into his pink eyes with pure hatred, smiling like a snake.

"…_and love, I guess, isn´t it?"_

Izaya moved forward, sitting front of his brother; he took his hand and smell it, he smelled his neck, his arms, his hair, and he growled. He covered the dagger and choked his brother, making Saike whimper in pain and fear.

"_I am the strongest one, Saike…"_

Seethed the elder, hatred present in each of his words.

"_You were touched by the mongrel, did he made love to you? Or did he rape you with his words and his rope? Oh...Saike, little one, you are a whore now, you betrayed your kin because of the touch of someone who would like to break your bones for his own pleasure~" _

Saike couldn´t speak; the strong hands of his brother trapped his words; he struggled against him and tried to kick him. However, every effort was worthless, as the grip of Izaya got stronger.

"_I guess it felt good, to have the samurai bastard inside you, dirtying your flesh with his bitter seed and making you think that his frail touches were better than any kind of family tie…"_

The face of the younger shinobi paled as he felt air leaving his lungs. Some painful seconds passed, and Izaya let him go, just to slap him in his face, making his left cheek burn in pain as he gasped for air. The older laughed in a cruel way before speaking again.

"_We will attack the Great Forge at midnight, just to finish the assignment you couldn´t fulfill, useless little one. And there, you shall find Heiwajima Tsugaru, and kill him in front of me"_

Saike nodded out of pure fear, letting his brother take the lead again; the older one raised and sneered at him, he took a needle that he kept hid in his sleeve, and nailed it in the back of his little brother; Saike froze in the middle of his movements and fell to the floor, unconscious.

"_And there will be no chance for disobedience this time…" _

There was darkness outside his house; there was fear in the eyes of the villagers, and there was pain in his own soul. The blue-eyed samurai stood firm in front of the gates of the Great Forge of the East, looking for any sign of the presence of Heiwajima Kasuka, whom was ordered to come and assist him in the defense of the blacksmithing enclave.

He just stood there, his bow prepared to make a signal, his senses focused in every sound or sight. His complete appearance drenched in a void, calm serenity; the men of his personal guard stood by his side, feeling that, for the first time in their lives of service, the serenity of their master looked too much like sadness. And they were right, for the mind of the samurai drifted back and forth from the image of a certain black haired shinobi; it was the midnight after being with him, and there was something in the memories of being with Saike that haunted him even in the face of duty.

The silence of the plains startled them; men could hear the limited sounds of the village behind them. There was nothing strange, yet everything was tense and obscure. No kind of noise or light could be seen in the fields; only the animals that crept in the dark of the night could be heard amidst the low melody of wind.

Until the seething sound of fire broke the peace.

Some red flames broke at the side of the mountains, near the forges of the village; fire wasn´t big, but it was followed by the sounds of steel cutting flesh, screams, and the noise of metal being borrowed in great quantities.

Melancholy disappeared as the bright arrows of the Heiwajima men ripped the air, making the bells of Ginzo-suru ring with haste. Tsugaru and his guard left their posts to enter the village, past the houses and into the frays: they knew what to do, the defense mechanism of the Great Forge, called the Hellfire, should be turned on to separate the Forge district and the village itself. The Hellfire was just a complicated pipe system designed to create walls of hot air and fire between the two districts, it was deadly, and functional after decades of peace.

Tsugaru and his men dashed through the village, and arrived to the Forges, where no sound was heard for a minute. The samurai walked slowly over the end pipes of the Hellfire, watching the crates filled with blades of steel in the wrong places, as if someone had moved them and leave.

Two of his guards fell dead in their tracks, and he heard something flying in his direction.

A single movement of his sword and a needle fell at his feet.

And a dark laugh crept in the air, revealing the clapping shadow of a man covered in black.

"_It is true, Heiwajima-san, that you talk like a monk and fight like a god?"_

Two needles, launched from different directions, passed near him: the samurai lowered his head and dodged them.

"_It is true, Heiwajima-san, that you saved the life of an enemy and showed him love?"_

The voice that spoke had a mocking tone; his words were poisoned and his movements were fast. Three, four needles flew behind him, and there was almost no chance of dodging them, but, somehow, Tsugaru rolled down, uninjured. His men didn't have that much luck.

"_Yes, it is true you took a boy in the middle of the night and made him betray his family…oh Heiwajima Tsugaru-san, you act so high and so low sometimes…"_

Two sets of steps brushed against the stone floor of the Forge entrance, and two voices spoke; two shadows moved towards him, the two of them being equal to Saike.

"_So now you will be punished, poet, for the anger that consumes the Red-Eyed Lord is boundless!"_

The blades of a pair of _wakizashi_ reflected the red light of embers as both shinobi dashed at the same speed and tempo. Both blades moved as spears, seeking his heart. The samurai traced an arch with his _katana, _making the blades clash into each other with a brilliant sound of battle. He slashed from one side to another in a swift movement, just to see that the shinobi crunched and tried to hack his legs.

The blonde moved back, but too late, as one of the blades cut through his leg armor, making him groan out of pain; the wound was not dangerous, but it reduced his speed.

"_There is no escape here, Lord of the samurai, for our men steal now your precious steel"_ Said one of the voices _"And we will destroy this place; who thought that someone famous for his wisdom would keep the mining tunnels opened for us?"_

More shadows appeared from behind the ember vaults; men taller than the two people who had attacked him. They carried the crates, and, as Tsugaru tried to stop them, the two main shadows tackled him, one of them lunching his already wounded leg, making him fall; however, he traced an arch towards the sky, making one of the ninja groan in pain; the blood of one of them slipped from a long wound in his chest.

The wounded shinobi shrieked in anger and grabbed the helmet of the samurai, cutting his fingers with the sharp edged of the piece of armor. The pain didn´t interrupt his movements, even when Tsugaru stood up and looked at his eyes, which shone like blood in the middle of the night.

"_And here we are, trying to kill ourselves…trying to understand why does these things happen all the time, isn´t it?"_

Orihara Izaya had the marks of anger across his calm face, and hatred illuminated each one of his gestures. He pointed with his _wakizashi_ to the eyes of the samurai and made a forceful grin. Tsugaru could not help but stare and focus again in the other figure that stood beside him; the breath of the other one was irregular, and some sobs could be heard in the air.

"_Saike…"_ Said the samurai with a sorrowful expression.

"_Oh of course, Heiwajima-san, I brought my little brother here so he could fulfill his mission, we do have honor, after all, and he promised me your blood…"_

Izaya dashed to slash the head of his enemy, but the samurai resisted. He knew that the alarm had sounded, and he could hear the steps of the _ashigaru_ coming closer to his position; they found the thieves with their hands in the steel. The full raged battle started, and there was almost nothing the Heiwajima army could do: their opponents had better weapons, and each one of them was a trained _shinobi_. The howls of death and the scent of blood filled the air once again, as the death god smiled in his grim throne for the Orihara army.

Tsugaru stood with a bright movement of his _katana_: his leg was badly wounded and his heart was at the verge of darkness, but he was still focused; he needed to go and activate the Hellfire, ignite the mining tunnels and cut the escaping route of his enemy. He held his ground and positioned himself for battle.

"_Let destiny be fulfilled, then…"_

He dashed to distract the older _shinobi_, but the younger answered with a long stab towards his chest; he just traced and arch, and another one, as the short swords of his opponents tried to stab against his defense. The three men knew that that battle could not be decided by ability, as the Orihara battle style couldn´t make much damage to the arches and the total defense of the Heiwajima samurai.

The only way to win, thought Orihara Izaya, was to break that already frozen heart. He looked at the eyes of his younger brother, and senses the fear hidden into those tears that flowed. It was almost impossible to maintain the battle pace while crying, but he was sure that Saike could do it; after all, he was the best in combat, although his mind was weak and his heart was embedded in that silly and never-ending love.

Izaya prepared a thin, silver metal needle, and threw it between a little gap of those steel arches; a clean cut of a needle in the wounded leg, and there was nothing the blonde could do. Saike gasped, but he attacked swiftly, and used the sheath of his sword to hit the arm of the samurai and disarm him quickly.

The red eyes of the older Orihara shone with anger as he sneered, _"See? Love has brought you here, to the edge of hate and darkness. Your precious honor cannot hold down our need for victory, right, Saike?"_

Saike shivered strongly, and held the neck of the samurai, looking him into his eyes, crying, clenching his teeth. Only a faint whispered got out his lips, just for the blonde to hear.

"_I am sorry…"_

"_CUT HIS THROAT AND FINISH THIS!"_

Roared the older _shinobi, _raising his sword and menacing him.

"_I am your Lord, and I command you to cut his eyes and his throat for the glory of our clan!"_

Saike took his sword and made a determined gesture. He could see the despair in the eyes of the samurai, his fear, he had no focus in that moment, he just seemed to be there, frozen by sadness and fear.

"_Do not fear death, Tsugaru"_

He said with a forced cold tone so his brother could hear.

"_Fear the cold feeling of treachery; fear my blade in your beautiful eyes, my love…"_

"_No, I only fear your descent to hell, Saike, for my own death holds the meaning of true peace"_

The blue eyes of the samurai locked with the pink eyes of his opponent as the blonde kneeled before him, emptying his mind and his spirit. He felt that the compassion and the love he showed for the _shinobi_ was useless; there was suffering around him, as the battle raged and the sound of horseshoes against the metal furnaces clouded his hearing…

He opened his eyes. His guard didn´t had trained horses, and the brown and blue symbols of the samurai who were fighting against the Orihara men were not his.

Orihara Izaya cursed in the name of the thousand spirits of hell; Heiwajima Kasuka had arrived, and with him, the heavy cavalry that cut the pathway for his men to escape.

"_SAIKE! The men are fighting or escaping, KILL HIM NOW!"_

The pink eyes or Orihara Saike trembled, and his entire body shivered: he was torn between his duty and his family honor and the love for the samurai. His life of deciert, murder and endless, tainted fun against the boring peace of compassion and wisdom. There was a second where the two paths revealed themselves in his mind, along with the options and the images, along with the type of end they would have

Saike made his choice, he took his sword and attacked swiftly to his objective.

Izaya raised his guard and protected himself from the strike of his brother´s blade. It was treason; it was against all the codes of honor and family, even for the _shinobi_ clans. But Saike stroke again and again, turning into a flurry of dancing blades, piercing through the defense of his brother just to turn back and attack again.

"_TRAITOR! TRAITOR!"_ Yelled the older one.

"_No! You´re the traitor! You´re the one who has betrayed his own kin leading all of us to war!_ _We are going to die like animals! We are going to be forgotten or hated because of your stupid idea!"_

Izaya felt his anger grow, and he attacked his brother fiercely; both blades danced and clashed between the look-alikes. Izaya was wounded in his chest, and Saike´s eyes were still clouded by his tears, but they carried on, and, at last, the younger one stabbed His brother arm, making him threw his short sword.

"_Leave now! Take the men and go home and plan something for the Heiwajima Clan to accept peace and end this war!"_

The red eyes of Izaya turned into slits as he denied fiercely; he knew that battle was lost, but he expected the men that ran through the mining tunnels to steal as much metal as he needed to continue fighting.

He ran towards the entrance of those tunnels, but a strange mechanical sound made him stop. He turned around and saw Heiwajima Tsugaru, wounded and bleeding, with some sort of lever in his hand; the mountain itself growled and trembled, along with the men who stood in the tunnels.

Then, an immense roar of fire and hot air broke the sounds of battle; the scent of charred meat filled the air, and the sounds of thousands of men burned alive made Izaya repeat his words once more.

"_Heiwajima-san, you act so high and so low sometimes…"_

The hatred in his soul made him roar once again, and he ran towards the wounded samurai; the blonde tried to defend himself, but only got a deep cut in his hands. Izaya grabbed his face and looked into his eyes.

"_I will take what is mine…"_

And with a swift movement of his hands, he took a needle and used it to tear off one of those gorgeous eyes; the face of his enemy turned in a expression of pure agony, and his blood filled his face, staining the black robes of the _shinobi_.

Saike heard the soul-piercing scream of his loved one, and his own will faltered; he dashed and punched his brother in his face, insulting him and crying as the red-eyed lord held a perfect, blue eye between his fingers. The fight was short, as the older ran away from it all at the sight of a samurai with the Heiwajima _mon_ in his back. His laughter was that of a crazy man, and his movements were swift and erratic.

The young _shinobi_ was sure he was going to escape, but he didn´t care about it. He looked at his lover, who sat there in a excruciating pain, whispering some prayers to calm down. He ran and sat by his side, kissing his cheeks, cleaning the stream of blood from his face, his whosle mind focused in one simple thought.

"_Please don´t die…"_

"_I don´t want to die, Saike, but if the god of death claims me, I have no choice but follow him"_

"_But...but you can stay here with me, and we can live peacefully, like in your dream.."_

"_Silence… there´s just one reason for me to live, I made a promise and I must honor it."_

Those cold words made Saike shiver with fear, as a question made its way in his lips.

"_Which promise…?"_

The samurai just smiled and looked at him with his only eye, and repeated the soft words he said many nights ago.

"_I won´t leave you alone…"_

And they shared a little kiss for a second, a strange sign of love amidst the sounds of battle and death in the furnaces. They smiled lightly, just before Tsugaru fainted due to his blood loss, making Saike hold him closely, while he saw a mounted man coming for him, pointing at him with his _katana_. The emotionless face of Heiwajima Kasuka appeared from behind a simple combat mask, and his words sounded above the fading noises of war.

"_Orihara Saike, shinobi and enemy of our clan, I command you to leave the body of Hewajima Tsugaru-sama and leave him alone"_

The pink eyes of the _ninja_ closed, as he sighed

"_Please, my Lord, I won´t harm him; you saw how I defended him from my own brother, I will surrender and walk at your side as a prisoner, but let me be with him. This man is now my Lord as well as the person whom I love the most…I know it´s difficult to believe, but please, let me be by his side…"_

The mounted man looked at him with nothing in his brown eyes. He just nodded.

"_Your wounds and my sight have helped you, Orihara Saike-san. We will go to the north, where Heiwajima Shizuo-sama awaits us. He won´t be happy to see you, no matter how much do you love this man."_

Saike accepted that and nodded softly.

"_Thank you so much. I will face his legendary anger if necessary; I will serve him and all of your brethren if that means I can see Tsugaru smile once more"_

The samurai just shrugged and called out for his men to regroup and take care of the wounded. The roar of the mountain in fire went silent as the _shinobi_ used the lever as support to raise the battered body of his loved one. He just hoped that the blue-eyed samurai could hear the whispered words he spoke before going near the defenders of Gizo-Suru.

"_Even if your brothers break my bones, I will stay by your side, my peaceful warrior…"_

* * *

><p><strong>Oh dear oh dear! One chapter and this first rebellion is finished! I also plan to write an omake...a smutty one -grins- I just need to write about that first lovely time between Tsugaru and Saike before writing the DeliHibi part -winks-<strong>

**I truly hope you´ve like it. I love your reviews a lot, all of them means a lot to me. Thanks for your support!**

**Winter In Japan. **


	7. First Rebellion: Fading Compassion

**And finally this gets and update. I love this story and I love you, guys 3 I think the first rebellion will end in the next chapter. If this feels a little cropped is because it was to crop it or not to update. Aaaaand you deserve the update.**

* * *

><p>Heiwajima Kasuka was a man of few words; the men who ride with him said that his face was a perpetual mask made of celestial porcelain, blessed by the spirits with the faculty to be forever the same except when the joyous tide of happiness hit him. Those ideas were now at the brink of uncertainty, for the features of the Lord of Calvary were now shadowed by doubt and confusion.<p>

The men understood; there was nothing normal in the sight they saw as they advanced from the Great Forge of the East to Yosai, the Fortress in the Plains, home of the Heiwajima Lord. Between the horses and the riders, stood a gap, where a single black _Norimono _or palanquin was carried by two black horses. Inside it was a wounded man who has enough strength to sit down even if his leg was almost crushed and one of his eyes was missing; however, it was not the stoicism of Heiwajima Tsugaru the reason of the men´s stupor.

It was the fact that a man was chained to his palanquin, and that man who acted like a prisoner smiled and sang for him, easing his agony with sweet words. In addition, that man was one of the most hated persons in the land of the riders; a _shinobi_ called Orihara Saike. Even if he was chained and ignored, his smile was always present, and he looked into the palanquin, singing every now and then a tune made out of haiku. The soldiers didn´t understand anything; the prisoner smiled each time he saw the wounded lord, and when he slept, he cried with a heart-breaking sadness, making them believe that at last one Orihara had gone mad.

Their Lord had been clear; this prisoner was special, and they couldn´t touch him, nor for good or bad, for only the judgment of Heiwajima Shizuo and his brothers could bring him to justice. However, the loyal retainers knew of the story of the little _shinobi_ and his actions in the battle for Gizo-Suru; he might be a betrayer for his own flesh and blood, but he had saved the protector of the Forge, staying now by his side under a solemn vow marked both in the battlefield and in the house of the warrior. They didn´t care about anything else, just about the fact that they were winning the war; the Orihara army was crippled, and their ashes were now inside the mining tunnels of the Great Forge.

But what the mounted samurai couldn´t see was the true face of the tragedy they carried to the mighty Fortress in the Plains: only Heiwajima Kasuka could see into the palanquin, for the man who was there stood completely destroyed inside. He who was the guide of his brothers in the time of great pain, who was respected and loved as harbinger of peace, just sat in his place and cried, only with a few words uttered in his silent desperation, knowing that the enemy was crushed, but their secret was now in their hands.

There had been reports from the frontiers; the Orihara had managed to fight now with swords that couldn´t be broken. The letters of Heiwajima Tsukishima were filled with recounts of hardships and secrets, of strong steel in the hands of darkened forces. The wounded Lord looked at his hands, which hold now scars made of hatred, and sunken into shame with his own words.

"_I have failed…"_

* * *

><p>The whole path from the Great Forge to Yosai was, for Saike, one of the most heart-warming ways he had seen. The low hills near the forge were greener than he ever thought, the orchards of the peasants and the little villages where commoners received them with courtesy and respect, bowing before the Lord of Calvary and praying for the recovery of the Lord of the North. In that journey, Saike learnt that, unlike the peasants under his rule, the commoners of the land of the samurai were not scared, and they didn´t need whips or violence to feel that this war was theirs too. He understood more of them once he spoke with a shopkeeper in a village called Urumi-in-the-lake, whom explained it with a poem.<p>

"_The Crane in the North that guides the lost is wise,_

_As the Tiger of the East who protects the weak is noble,_

_In the West stands the gentle Fox, who shows the truth,_

_And all of them kneel to the Southern Dragon, who violence sooths" _

Those symbols made Saike smile; they were simple, and incredibly easy to remember for anyone; he felt like there was nothing the Heiwajima brothers wanted to hide from the world, and given that, someone could easy spy on them. Still, the words of the commoners and the way that the Calvary talked with them made him realize that the union between the people and the warriors was so strong that there was no need for secrets; the carpenters, the fishermen, the mothers and the peasants spoke with the samurai with respect, and smiled for them. There was no fear, not even mistrust, just the serenity of the fields, and the quiet life of the farmers.

The soldiers that walked by his side ignored him, and their commander barely looked at him; only the one who gave him the food for the day spoke a bit to him, and it was only some sort of grunt, like he was pestilent, or mad…

Still, Orihara Saike was happy. He was serving, even in chains and wounded, he was smiling and singing. The reason of all his joy inside the wooden palanquin, barely smiling to him when his song came to his ears, and mumbling soft words when the sleeping time came and he assisted the medic on healing his wounds; his skin was healing, and so his bones, but his spirit…

It was completely broken; the shimmer of peace and hope that lay in his eyes was now diminishing. Not only a big white bandage covered the empty socket of his left eye, also, his voice was merely a whisper, made to recite sutras, an endless stream of prayers every time they walked near a sanctuary or a monastery. Besides that, there was only silence, and the short questions for Psyche.

"_Where are we, light of my eyes?"_

"_In the lands of the Tanaka, my Lord, in the fishermen´s cove, the sea is deep blue and the sun shines in the shore, making the sand glimmer as an iridescent pearl"_

"_We are in the lands of my brother Derikku…"_

"_Isn´t that something good, Tsugaru-sama? The peasants love him, and most people sa-"_

"_I don´t want him to see me"_

"_But…he is from your flesh and blood…"_

"_He will fell victim to my own stupidity and incompetence, I will prefer to see him later, when we are home..."_

Those were the words of his Lord, cold and ruthless, filled with despise, an anger that Saike had seen before; cold and never-ending, the waves of self-loathing were now stirring up the samurai. He looked at a now scared shinobi, all compassion extinguished from his gaze, only a flicker of love left, a lone candle in an ocean of darkness.

"_Tsugaru…"_ he spoke, knowing that it would break all the rules for addressing him _"I am a betrayer, a murderer and a liar, but here I am, chained, going to my own judgment. My judge and my executor will be the greatest enemy of my family, and still, I smile, and joy fills my heart; I have known love, and with it wisdom and compassion, the one I love is still alive and I can serve him, but he has fallen in silence and pain…"_

"_The one you love is a powerful warrior, harbinger of peace. The one you are looking at now is a meek shadow, bringer of honorless death, who chose to live to see his brethren one last time, to ensure that the one he kissed in dreams could be free of his foul destiny"_

"_Won´t you fulfill your promise, my Lord?, will you walk with me all my life, until I pass away?" _

He spoke in the same gentle tone, understanding now, realizing in that bright day a grim truth. Silence fell between them, and Saike couldn´t help but touch the face of his beloved warrior, finding in his lack of words a terrible omen, something that could broke the dream that had brought them together.

"_Will you leave me alone?"_

Heiwajima Tsugaru wanted to die.

* * *

><p>Under the light of twilight, the armor of the lone rider shone as if it was made of molten amethysts, his hair of gold and his horse, of sunlight. But it was his smile what made Saike look up to that man: samurai weren´t supposed to show their emotions in such a daring way, and yet, Heiwajima Derikku was grinning in the most pure and audacious joy, his magenta eyes as bright as dusk itself.<p>

With a loud yell, he made his horse run from the hill he was standing to the company of cavalrymen. His laughter echoed in the plains, and the men who saw him passing near smiled to the sight of the Tiger of the East, Lord of the plains and the coves, he who protected the weak and managed to feed almost all the province.

"_Where is my brother?" _Asked the man, a blush of pure effort dusting his cheeks. He looked upon all the men, bowing his head, and he even pat the back of the expressionless Kasuka, who just replied with a low _"Welcome, my Lord…"_ However, when his eyes gazed upon Saike, the smile faded, turning into a serious gesture that made the younger brother look a lot like Tsugaru.

"_Orihara Saike, the one with the skill of all blades…I saw you two years ago, in a meeting of all the southern clans. You were smiling, that day your kin murdered a Lord of the Niekawa clan, making his daughter cry… now you´re the one suffering, and justice shall be served"_

"_I will surrender to the will of your brethren…"_ He replied calmly.

"_Indeed you will. Surely, my older brother would let me use my nodachi in that rotten head of yo-"_

"_Is that the mercy of a true warrior? Or is that the anger of a man who has drowned in his own hatred?"_ The voice of Tsugaru was clear, and his words were true once more; it seemed the wisdom he held wasn´t lost.

"_Is the voice of someone who has seen too much suffering in the hands of Those Who Look Above the Crowd, brother, of someone who doesn´t forget the insults and the corpses!"_

"_Of someone who forgets who saved the one he wants to see now"_ Spoke the northern samurai, taking the curtain of his palanquin, seeing how those expressive eyes opened greatly at the sight of his wounds.

"_They told us Orihara Izaya had taken a sapphire…foolish me, who thought it was one of the treasures of the mine…" _Derikku clenched his fists and looked at the shinobi once again, growling _"If this one you´ve held as your prisoner helped you in the Roaring Mountain, then I will respect him, I will obey your commands, though you owe me a long explanation"_

"_The explanation is simple, little brother: Orihara Saike has proved to be more than a warrior; he is the omen of my dreams, the one who brought his own clan leader for a peace effort that was denied. And the one who is making my thoughts of committing seppuku too hard to accept…if that doesn´t convince you, then I will speak with your words: He is the one I have loved every night in my dreams"_

Silence fell for all of them, heavy like the ocean itself.

Derikku spoke in a whisper, too shocked to reply with more.

"_I see…that changes everything, Shizuo Onii-sama won´t like that…"_

"_But you understand it, my brother. You know how it feels to love in the middle of despair; the same force has saved you, and maybe, just maybe, it will save me"_

Tsugaru closed the _norimono_, and left them in a strange silence once more.

"_If Shizuo cuts off your head, Tsugaru will kill himself…" _spoke the younger samurai, gritting his teeth and sighing, looking at the confused and terrified expression of Saike, ruffling his hair.

"_Well….I prefer to assist to the absolution of an enemy than to the funeral of a brother_"

Ten generations of the Heiwajima clan had seated in Yosai ever since the founder, Kojiro from the Peace Island, came to the lands near the strait with his people to colonize it. The Fortress in the plains was built in a place where the last dragon sang to the heavens; it was a gigantic castle, built with white bricks and thousands of blue ceramic tiles formed the roofs of all the levels, and around it was a beautiful garden filled with flowers, and even a cemetery and a small temple at the entrance.

The temple was dedicated to Kannon, goddess of Mercy. According to the legend, all the Heiwajima used to pray to Bishamonten, Lord of Warfare, until he granted their wish of unlimited strength; power came, along with anger, and it was the sacrifice of Heiwajima Yoshiro the monk, who made the Mother of Mercy to make them kind, as well as strong. The blessing of strength and kindness came with a price: no Heiwajima could ever raise his hands to an innocent opponent, or the entire kin could suffer the consequences.

It seemed Orihara Izaya had forgotten that small detail as he prepared his plans, thought Saike as their entered into the walls of the fortress: his guile had failed when his hatred took over his mind, another proof that anger couldn´t lead to anything good. If the spies that served him were good enough, he had known such things, but it seemed he only cared about killing the entire clan himself.

"_The Lady of Mercy just made your people kind?"_ He asked, not understanding completely the story that Derikku had told him _"It doesn´t seem to be something really important"_

"_Heh! Always looking above the crowd!"_ Sneered the samurai, walking by his side, carrying his chains as the rest of men just went quickly inside the forges or the stables; it was normal than the prisoners were the last to enter, however, it wasn´t common that a Lord decided to escort them. _"Before the sacrifice of Yoshiro, we were the nightmare of this land; people hated us, cursed us, and just hoped we would die soon. Yoshiro saw this and decided to ask all the gods' for an answer to this problem; all of them stood silent except for Kannon; she just asked him to stop using his strength for a year, no matter the price. He did it and he was killed as a martyr nine months later. His sister, Heiwajima Setsuna, saw him in a dream and was the first of the clan in understanding that being a strong warrior is not the same as being a monster; she taught her nephews and her children, and even wrote a book to make us remember, the Tides of Mercy…"_

Saike laughed all of sudden, making his companion snarl once more_. "Do you think this is a joke, ninja?"_ His voice sounded harsher, and made the shinobi gulp.

"_It just…I think you´re just a bit hardheaded; anyone knows that being kind to people is a sure way to make them like you" _

"_Yes, we´re hardheaded. You´ve seen that, but it was that flaw that made my brother take care of you, and as for that thing you say…."_ He frowned _"If your people are kind, then why everyone fears your steps and hates your voice? Could it be that this kindness you speak of is nothing but a lie?"_

Saike felt as if all joy banished within his mind: it was true. Heiwajima Derikku used strong words, and it seemed he did not intend to say lies to him; it was a painful reminder of his mission, of his past, and of the fact that right now, he felt more alone than ever.

"_Maybe…maybe it is all a lie, but I am willing to make amends for it"_

His voice was low, noticed the Lord, and it seems his steps were slower now. There was something in the shinobi that he recognized as pain; maybe it was some kind of deep sorrow or fear.

"_Nothing you can say or do will make all the dead people come back, nor it will make the past change. However, you can do something that no one can"_ Derikku sighed and yanked the chains, so the prisoner could hear his whispers "_I know my brother, he is willing to commit suicide no matter the circumstances. We cannot lose him, not only because he is a Lord and a paramount of the Way, but also because without him the entire clan would fall in disgrace. Make him live, Orihara Saike, and I will speak mercifully when my brother decides to judge you"_

"_Why do you trust me?"_ Saike asked, too nervous by the task; he was an expert in taking lives, not in keeping them. There was no knowledge in his mind about what to do; all he had was his own instincts and feelings, and it seemed none of them actually made a difference. _"Why do you count on me for save your brother?"_

Derikku chuckled, and started to walk to the dog pens, laughing under his breath_. "I don´t trust you, shadow warrior, I am just willing to do whatever it takes to win this war and have my brother back in this world, even if that means to give you a chance to live"_

When they were inside the pens, the growls and barks of fifty-four dogs made Saike shiver, he knew that the Heiwajima were fond of those animals, but he didn´t thought of how ferocious they looked, or how loud they were. He felt another yank that made all the chains against his skin go tighter, making him feel the familiar pain of cuts; the samurai chained him loosely against a column, not bothered by the noise of the dogs.

"_Move, and they will snarl, jump, and they will reach, flee, and their howls will tell my brother that you abandoned him"_

The samurai left the shinobi alone, in a prison without barriers.

* * *

><p>"<em>I am glad to see you once more, aniki"<em> The quiet voice of Kasuka made his daydream stop. Even if he had prepared his armor, his sword and the whole fortress, his mind was still in shock after the news he had received.

"_Welcome home, Kasuka"_ was his answer, a meek growl. The Lord of the South, Heiwajima Shizuo, looked bothered in his lacquered seat. The magnificence of the room, with the tapestries representing each great clan member, was not enough to calm him. The gaze of his ancestors upon him was a great weight upon his spirit, mostly because none of them had to face the crisis he had in his hands.

"_Heiwajima Tsugaru-sama was brought home, my Lord, his wounds are severe, but he will survive. The Great Forge was defended, and the enemy lost 125 men, most of them shinobi. However, there was a single crate of steel stolen by…"_

"_By the pest himself, I know"_ Shizuo growled, fighting against the urge of break something. Jut speaking about Orihara Izaya was enough to send him to the edge of his sanity, to question the victory of the goddess of compassion over the god of warfare. _"There was also something about a sapphire and the prisoner…" _He snarled, breathing slowly so he could calm down, so he could speak without breaking his own seat. _"Orihara Saike was saved by my own brother, or so it seems. I heard the story from one of your messengers, Kasuka, but I am not willing to believe on it until Tsugaru explains me that. You will stay here with your men before parting to guard the Forge; Derikku and Tsugaru will assist me on the judgment of Saike and his execution…"_

"_You cannot do that"_

Shizuo stood up quickly; his vassal had replied against his orders, it was strange, it was something that never had happened and he was not willing to admit it. _"I cannot allow any of those fleas to survive, Kasuka. They´ve killed my men, they´ve done whatever they can to break our power and our authority. The head of one of them shall decorate the gate of Yosai as a reminder of what happens when you dare to bother the Heiwajima clan"_ His voice was deep, and his anger was boiling deep within his heart, but even with that, he couldn´t see any form of fear in the eyes of Kasuka. The Lord of Cavalry stood still before his strength, looking into his eyes, questioning his orders.

"_If you kill the prisoner, Tsugaru will commit seppuku. His suicide can be the most honorable thing according to the Way, but you cannot allow that… aniki, stop this madness, listen to Saike and let him live as a hostage until war ends"_

"_I WON´T LET THOSE PESTS LIVE AS LONG I AM IN THIS WORLD!"_

"_Then you are thinking the same as the Orihara clan, aniki…"_

The cold realization hit Shizuo as a blizzard on his soul; he didn´t move when Kasuka left the room. He was left alone, trembling in the spot, clenching his teeth and contemplating his own seething hate for the shinobi clan. It was endless and terrible as hell itself, ripping across his strength, defiling his mind and the blessing of understanding what kind of master did his clan served. Shizuo felt a nauseous feeling coiling in his stomach, and he clumsily walked to his own room, leaving there the pieces of his armor. He ignored the servants and the lesser retainers, and focused on his own disgust, not daring to look the tapestries and the paintings in the paper panels of his own palace.

He sat down before a simple white door in the eastern side of the fortress, before speaking; he tried to fix his hakama the best he could, and to calm down his own anxiety. The person inside that place was the one he didn´t want to face, but at the same time, it was the one he needed the most right now.

"_Open the door… Tsugaru Onii-sama…"_

* * *

><p>He had seen it.<p>

He had looked over his window, and saw how Derikku guided Saike to the pens; it was a very weird tactic his younger brother had invented as a way to prove his lover´s loyalty. Tsugaru thought he wouldn´t use it, since the last victim was the only woman that had tamed him, but now she was gone and it seemed that she had taken away most of his mercy.

"_Too much suffering over a faint wish"_ he whispered, not really thinking about Derikku, but about himself. He was wounded, and even if he knew he would fight as soon as he was healed, his will was broken. He had seen men burned alive, he had heard their screams, and he had seen the determination in the eyes of his lover, the clear purpose to kill him.

Something was lost in that moment; when he realized that the vows of the Orihara were far more important than the love he had for Saike; he had realized that what he had made Saike done was the most dishonorable action of all: treachery. He had stirred up betray with his compassion, he had broken the vows of war, and he had failed on his mission.

Heiwajima Tsugaru had realized that everything he was served against the purposes he fought for. His wisdom created death, his love twisted into betrayal and his precious honor was nothing but a lie fed by death and blood. Even in that moment, the idea of committing suicide also meant leaving Saike alone… promises broke themselves; wishes destroyed what he had believed in.

And he didn't saw any way out.

The voice of Shizuo was unexpected. He walked slowly and opened the door, seeing his troubled gestures and his trembling demeanor; however, there was one thing that startled him the most.

"_Why do you speak to me with that title, Shizuo-sama?"_

Shizuo scoffed _"Enough with that, I am not your master. And I say that because you are the older brother and I need to remind that to you. Your actions had us at the brink of a big problem. I see you are wounded and you brought the Omen, why is a flea, I don´t know. And worst of it, I don't know what to do with him" _The disgust in his voice was clear; he was nervous but at the same time, he wanted to deal with Saike as soon as possible.

"_Derikku told me you want to kill him…"_ Tsugaru replied, sitting down once more near the window _"According to the law, it should be done. But then, the same laws say I have to kill myself for letting a secret be stolen from us; I cannot kill myself, for I promised him to never leave him alone, and you cannot kill him, for he is an innocent one right now. He betrayed his own kin and he-"_

"_THAT IS NOT THE DAMNED POINT!" _Shizuo roared in desperation _"I know what he did, I heard the messengers. You are broken between the love and your duty, or so Derikku told me, and I am torn between hatred and fear. Don´t fool me, Tsugaru! Both you and I know you are the older brother! The blood of Setsuna, the….the…the only person in this cursed world that stand between us and hell"_

Unable to reply to that properly, Tsugaru allowed his gestures to show how astounded he felt. The Heiwajima Lord had never believed in the stories of their ancestors, and only held traditions out of use. To see him now, drenched in anguish and looking at him like that made him wonder just one thing. _"What happened?"_ He _asked "You never believed in me being the blood of Setsuna or in the curse of Bishamonten. Even when Father told you that there was a dark taint in our minds, you told him you would punch it away…"_

"_I have fallen into the worst kind of anger lately, brother"_ confessed the samurai Lord, his gaze low _"I cannot listen to anything related to our enemies without feeling enraged, I want to kill them all, I want to make them suffer, I want to kill kill kill kill kill kill…kill each one of them, until not even his shadows can be remembered, until I cannot smell them anymore…"_ His voice darkened and his eyes, his eyes had a blood injected shimmer, something that could only be born of a dark past, of an older creature, of something beyond any worldly trait.

"_Mother of Mercy…" _Tsugaru forgot about anything for a moment, seeing how his Lord and brother cursed his enemies and forgot who he was. Shizuo was growling, breathing heavily and repeating the same word over and over again: kill kill kill kill. There was nothing normal about that, and when he touched Shizuo, it felt hot like fire. _"Please calm down, brother, do not let that crawl into your spirit. You know you´re far stronger than this, remember the words of the ancestors, the sacrifice of Yoshiro…"_

"_Names mean nothing now!"_ He spoke loudly, punching the floor and grabbing his own head _"How can that help me? I don't want to fall to this; I don't want it to be like when I was a kid, when I destroyed everything I touched. I want to live in peace, without any pest bothering me, strong enough to feel serene like you, damn it!"_

"_Then remember that if you keep like this you will turn into your own enemy, brother!"_ Tsugaru held him, even if it seemed he would flare up in pure rage _"Those we face think the same, that murder is the only way to get a better world. When we started this war you were the one who wrote that we would fight for our honor, not for vengeance or for gain. Remember that, and who you are, and that will give you the strength to resist that"_

Shizuo calmed down, little by little. His breath became a succession of long, deep sighs; falling to his knees, he looked up at his older brother, and shook his head. _"Fight for honor…"_ He mumbled, feeling free of the rage that had consumed him not long ago _"I said that, but now, when it seems right to let the shinobi live, to forbid you from committing seppuku, when the best for all seems to break all the laws of the Way, I cannot understand what honor is, Tsugaru Onii-sama. You are the successor of Setsuna, the one who taught us wisdom, what can you say about that?"_

The blue eyes of the warrior were casted down _"The same question has been haunting me ever since the battle of the Roaring Mountain"_ He admitted _"But, for now, I am starting to think that honor is not about laws, nor as the Way as an absolute. Honor is doing the right thing, even if it means to break your bones, your mind or your law. It means sacrifice, and in times like this, being honorable means to fight against everything you´ve known for the sake of everything you´ve loved"_

Sweating and still trembling, Heiwajima Shizuo heard those words, and smiled.

* * *

><p><strong>I pray you had not read the typo-ridden version of this, there were one or two mistakes that could have stripped away all the seriousness of it.<strong>  
><strong>One of them was Lord with an a, yeah, <em>Lard<em>.**  
><strong>Sometimes I cannot with my own derpy self xD. thanls for reading!<strong>


End file.
